


If Thine Enemy Hunger

by thymelord



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005), Doctor Who and related fandoms
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Anal Sex, BDSM, Dancing, Enemies With Benefits, Enemies to Lovers, Episode Fix-It: s04e17-18 The End of Time, Gallifrey, Gallifrey Falls No More, Gallifrey Is Back Party, M/M, Porn With Very Little Plot, Rough Sex, Smut, mild exhibitionism, surprisingly romantic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-04
Updated: 2018-09-04
Packaged: 2019-07-06 17:06:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15890349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thymelord/pseuds/thymelord
Summary: There was a very heated and prolonged debate about whether the Doctor and the Master should be invited to the latest Academy reunion, which culminated in deciding to invite them just to see the chaos ensue when they see each other.They surprise - and scandalise - everyone.Except perhaps Romana, who had known exactly what was going to happen when she invited them.





	If Thine Enemy Hunger

**Author's Note:**

> a lighthearted (read: cracky) AU in which gallifrey comes back in and someone (probably romana) stops rassilon and the high council from destroying the entire universe and then they all have a big old Time Lord Party simply because i can’t get this idea out of my head lmao 
> 
> set just after The End of Time
> 
> feat. some of the doctor's Cousins because i just read Lungbarrow and i'm obsessed with innocet

When he received the invitation, The Doctor was convinced that there had been some sort of mistake.

Romana was throwing some sort of Gallifrey-Is-Out-Of-The-Time-Lock-And-Somehow-The-Universe-Survived party, and whereas it was true that she and the Doctor went way back, he still hadn’t been expecting to get an invitation, mostly because his Cousins would throw a fit, and probably half the rest of Gallifrey. Possibly three-quarters.

Or forty-nine fiftieths.

High society had never been one of The Doctor’s favourite things, and his first instinct was to ignore the invitation. But it had been years upon years since he’d mingled with other Gallifreyans, and besides, he was morbidly curious to see what these famous parties were like. Furthermore, he was in-between companions, so he was so incredibly _bored._

Fuck it.

He was going.

~

Five minutes into the party and he was regretting it already.

The concierge had nearly not let him in, because he wasn’t wearing formal Gallifreyan robes. There were very few outfits that The Doctor refused to wear, but that was one of them. Finally, after much invitation-brandishing, raised voices and the threat that if he didn’t let him in The Doctor would land his TARDIS right in the middle of the dance floor, he was begrudgingly let inside.

Everyone recognised him instantly, of course. There was a lot of scandalised muttering, and nobody looked particularly pleased to see him there. Just as he’d anticipated, a Cousin – Glospin, naturally, because why _wouldn’t_ Glospin be there – saw him immediately, and went over to him waving a magenta angrily at him. “ _You!”_ The magenta bounced off his head, and the Doctor just stared at him.

“Hello!” said the Doctor cheerfully. “Lovely to see you, Cousin Glospin.”

“You are not my Cousin,” hissed Glospin.

“Oh, lighten up, you old crone. Ha! Get it! _Lighten_ up? Because the House of Lungbarrow - ”

“If you don’t shut up, Doctor, I think your entire Family is going to band together and murder you.”

The Doctor spun around at the sound of that all-too familiar voice, the only person that could possibly have made his mood even worse, and a hush descended around them as everyone waited on tenterhooks to see what would happen next.

“Why did _you_ get an invitation?” said The Doctor incredulously.

The Master smirked. “That’s rich, coming from you.”

They stared at each other for a moment, and then _Toxic_ by Britney Spears began playing on the hi-fi system.

“Isn’t this one of those ridiculous Earth songs you like?” said The Master.

“Oh yes. It’s a classic anthem.”

“Dance with me.” The Master grabbed his hand, not waiting for his reply. There was a simultaneous sharp intake from every single other Time Lord in the room, which made both of them laugh.

“You’re such a fucking idiot,” said the Doctor as the Master swept him up in a formal dance that was entirely unsuitable for the current tune, as though he was dancing to a tune inside his head. Somehow, the Doctor managed to keep up with the Master’s rhythm even though it was an entirely different time signature to _Toxic._

The Master spun him close, mouth almost touching the Doctor’s ear as he said, “It’s been a while since we’ve danced, hasn’t it?”

“Oh, yes.” The Doctor let out an involuntary gasp as the Master wrapped a leg around his waist, then twirled playfully away, holding out his arm. The Doctor was an alright dancer, but only when it came to conventional dances and dances that actually matched up with the fucking music. The Master, in classic Master style, was now completely making it up; before the moves had seemed similar to the traditional dance of House Oakdown, but now it just seemed like he was trying to be as flamboyant and outrageous as possible.

The Doctor let out a highly undignified squeal as the Master lifted him up, and he heard a delighted laugh that sounded suspiciously like that of Romana. When the Master lowered him back down, both his hearts were beating wildly, and he didn’t know if it was due to anxiety that the Master could have dropped him – either accidentally or on purpose – and broken his neck, or simply because the Master had performed such a gesture.

As the closing bars to the song approached, the Master pulled him in by his tie and kissed him. There was another whoop that was _definitely_ Romana, a shriek of surprised horror that was probably Glospin, and the Doctor was pretty sure he heard the sound of someone dropping their champagne flute. Before the Doctor had a chance to react, the Master was pulling away, and all he could think to say was “Why?”

The Master laughed. “Why not?” He leaned back in to whisper in the Doctor’s ear, “So… your TARDIS or mine?”

The Doctor shivered involuntarily, hand tightening on the back of the Master’s jacket. “Very funny.”

The Master shifted closer, far too close for public company. “Who’s joking?” He kissed the top of the Doctor’s jaw bone, just below his ear. “ _I’m_ certainly not joking.” He pressed another kiss a little further down, on his neck.

“Koschei,” said the Doctor in a choked voice, “this –  is – entirely – inappropriate.”

“Yes,” murmured the Master, “and that’s why it turns you on so much, doesn’t it, _Theta?”_

“ _Koschei!”_

“Tell me I’m wrong.” He threw up a telepathic bridge, which the Doctor pushed back. The Master flashed him a grin. “I’ll say it out loud, then. Loudly.”

The Doctor gritted his teeth, and allowed him entry.

“ _I bet you’d love me to fuck you right here, wouldn’t you? In front of everyone?”_

The Doctor’s cheeks heated. “ _Koschei, for Rassilon’s sake - ”_

 _“I’m obviously not going to, but the thought of it – I can feel your arousal through our link, baby.”_ His knee nudged against his groin, subtly enough that no one watching probably noticed. _“And through other things.”_

The Doctor’s breath was coming in stuttering, heavy pants. “ _Koschei…”_

_“When I drag you into my TARDIS after all this, do you know what I’m going to do with you?”_

The Doctor ran his tongue along his bottom lip, and despite himself, he said, “ _What are you going to do to me, Master?”_

The Master had up until now retained complete outward composure, but now a ragged sigh escaped from him. “ _First of all, I’d tie you to the bed with those silk ribbons you like so much.”_

The Doctor’s arousal was now becoming to be physically painful. “ _You still have those?”_

_“Of course, my darling.”_

_“We need to get out now._ Now, _Koschei, I can’t stand it any longer, please - ”_

_“Oh, is my little slut getting impatient? Do you need to be fucked, pet?”_

“For fuck’s sake,” said the Doctor out loud, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the door.

“Oh my,” laughed the Master as the Doctor navigated around a gaggle of Lungbarrows.

“Absolutely disgraceful comportment,” said Cousin Innocet in a stage-whisper to Cousin Glospin. “I become more and more pleased we disinherited him every single day.” But her eyes were twinkling, and she winked at the Doctor as he swanned past.

~

As soon as they were in the Doctor’s TARDIS, the Master slapped him on the cheek, and the Doctor gasped.

“You have behaved _very_ badly, Theta. Even your august relatives noticed.”

“My relatives are the absolute opposite of august.”

The Master slapped him again. “Don’t talk back to your Master,” he snarled. He stepped forward. “Do you remember the safe word?”

“Solitude.”

“Good boy.” The Master caressed the cheek that he’d just hit. “My precious pet.”

The Doctor practically purred, leaning into him. The Master took hold of his shirt and ripped it, buttons pinging off the roundels on the wall. “Hey!” objected the Doctor. “I liked that shirt!”

The Master’s hand wrapped around the front of his throat, pressing down warningly. “What have I told you about talking back?”

In answer, the Doctor surged forwards, kissing him. The Master pushed him against the wall, deepening the kiss. Suddenly, the Doctor broke away and fell to his knees, feverishly undoing the Master’s trousers and thanking every god in every pantheon in the universe that the Master didn’t bother to wear intricate ceremonial robes either.

“Oh,” said the Doctor, voice bordering on reverent. “Oh, this regeneration is _glorious.”_

The Master kicked his trousers away and scooped up the Doctor, who let out an undignified yelp. “Bedroom.”

“Yes, third on the – third on the right.”

The Master threw him on the bed and riffled through one of the drawers. “Aha,” he said with a grin, pulling out a pair of royal purple silk ribbons. “You bought matching ones, you old romantic.” He turned, ribbons in hand, and only the Master could look so commanding while being half-dressed with his cock exposed to the elements. While the Master had been looking for the ties, the Doctor had thrown all his clothes on the floor.

“Please,” whispered the Doctor, “please, fuck me, _please - ”_

“No, I think you’ve got a bit confused.” The Master grabbed his wrist and tied it to the bedpost, and then did the same to the other. “ _You_ don’t tell me what to do, _I_ am the one who gives orders, do you understand?” He ran a finger around the base of the Doctor’s cock, and his hips jerked upwards. “Because naughty boys don’t get to come, do they?”

“Yes, Master,” said the Doctor. “I’ll be good, I promise.”

“Good boy.” The Master appeared to produce a small bottle of lube from nowhere, and the Doctor blinked at it. “Where did that come from?”

“I brought it in case you were there,” said the Master. “I never come unprepared.” His finger pressed against the Doctor’s entrance, and his hips bucked upwards again.

“Koschei, oh, _fuck - ”_

“Look at you,” said the Master. “Even after nine hundred years, you’d still do anything for my cock.”

“Yes,” sobbed the Doctor. “Please, _please - ”_

“This is what the _Doctor_ is underneath everything, isn’t it? A little whore.”

“Yes, Master. _Your_ whore. Only yours.”

“Good boy.” The Master’s nails dug into the side of his lips, and the Doctor’s entire body lurched forward, arms straining at his ties. A litany of Gallifreyan curses fell from his lips, almost reverent, and the Master reached out and softly caressed his cheek. “Oh, my babyboy, look at you, you’re so beautiful.”

“Thank you, Master,” whispered the Doctor, eyelids fluttering. He let out a gasp that bordered on a scream as the Master breached him, canting upwards to meet his thrust. “Yes, oh _fuck, Koschei_ , oh - ” His cock twitched against his stomach, and the Master smirked.

“I bet you’re going to come without me even touching your cock, hmm?”

“Do you want me to?”

“Oh, yes. I would very much like that, Theta.” He gave a particularly hard thrust, hitting his prostate, and a cry of ecstasy came from him.

“Fuck, fuck, _Master –_ Master, my Master…”

“My Theta,” said the Master, and backhanded him across the face.

The Doctor gave a sharp moan, the tendons on his forearm standing out as he pulled against his restraints, and suddenly came over their stomachs, breath coming in heavy pants. He whimpered desperately as the Master continued to fuck him, the motion against his suddenly-hypersensitive prostate making him quiver with overstimulation.

The Master gasped, head dipping down as he sucked at the Doctor’s throat, and he came with a shudder before pulling out, watching the cum slip from his entrance. He dipped his head, tongue sliding over him, swallowing it down as though it was the most delicious thing he’d ever tasted. Then he reached up, undoing the ribbons around the Doctor’s wrists and dropping them to the floor. He kissed him deeply and the Doctor immediately responded, arms wrapping around him.

“You okay?” murmured the Master against him. “Not too much?”

“No, it was wonderful, my love.” The Doctor kissed his cheek. “We’d better get back to the party, don’t you think?”

“Yes, we should.” The Master’s lips suddenly curled upwards in a wicked smile. “And I’ve got an idea.”

~

“This is outrageously provocative,” said the Doctor. “Not sexually, but socially.”

“And you’d love it either way,” teased the Master.

There was a delighted scream from Romana that somehow managed to be even more delighted than the previous one. They were wearing matching scarves, something that in Gallifreyan culture signified engagement. They weren’t actually engaged, but the Master had wanted to make the entire of House Oakdown – and House Lungbarrow, for that matter – have an apoplectic fit.

The two most notorious subversives in Gallifreyan history, bar perhaps the Other himself, best friends in their Academy years and then mortal enemies for centuries – suddenly wearing _matching scarves?_

The Master pulled the Doctor in for a gentle kiss, causing Glospin to make a vocalisation of disgust. Innocet floated past them, whispering in the Doctor’s ear, “I have no doubt you’re doing this to wind everyone up, but congratulations anyway, little Snail.”

“Oh, come on,” said the Doctor with a grin, “when have I _ever_ wound anyone up?”

Once Innocet had left, the Master glanced up at him coyly. “Why did you have matching scarves in the first place, anyway?”

The Doctor smiled. “In case you decided to come back?”


End file.
